


Steel To Ivory To Porcelain

by casstayinmyass



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ramsay Didn't Happen, Bisexual Missandei, Bisexual Sansa, Canon Universe, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fingerfucking, Gentle Sex, Girls Kissing, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Jon Snow Knows Nothing, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Scissoring, Season/Series 07, Vaginal Sex, Winterfell, dany ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Missandei meets Lady Sansa Stark when she accompanies Daenerys to Winterfell with Jon. They are enthralled with each other, and soon realize they are not all that different.





	Steel To Ivory To Porcelain

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought this ship would be interesting :) This is a slight au where Ramsay didn't happen, and Grey Worm died in the battle of Mereen.

Sansa didn’t know what to think upon her brother’s return. Coming back to the north with a fair-haired woman and an army at her back did not seem like the kind of confidence they wanted to instill in their bannermen, but Jon was adamant Daenerys Stormborn was here for peace.

Now that her brother was home, Winterfell felt complete again. Sansa had to admit, she enjoyed the influence she had while she had it, but for the time being, Jon had more experience than her with ruling; Sansa herself was more skilled at the behind the scenes, pulling the strings, as Littlefinger had taught her since childhood. But, she had been able to keep a strong face as acting Queen.

She wondered if Daenerys, the Dragon Queen, would really dethrone Cersei. She wasn’t ready to place her chips on either side… but the silver-haired mother of dragons at least looked somewhat more approachable than the Lannister.

Sansa’s eyes roamed over to Brienne, who was currently talking to Davos at the other side of the room, and then looked to the people Daenerys had brought to accompany her. There were lots of men in uniforms that looked very cold. She decided to walk over.

“You should warm yourselves.” The soldiers all looked at her, waiting for something else. She frowned, and slowly tried again. “It… would please me greatly if you warmed yourself, sirs.”

“Jiōragon bāne, ñuha raqirossa,” came a sharp voice from behind her, and Sansa turned to see Daenerys. The soldiers all promptly gathered around the fire, finally allowing themselves to shiver. “They only really listen to me,” she explained, “They don’t know you yet. Neither do I, for that matter.”

Sansa chose her words carefully—the blonde’s smile was warm, but her eyes had an ice that could freeze even a Northerner over. “I would… very much like to change that, your grace,” she said, bowing her head, and Dany tilted her chin up.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about your brother and me. If all goes, you’ll be my sister.” She leaned in. “I don’t know if I’m speaking to the right person about this, but it looks like every man here wants to skewer me. If they’re of the same breed as Jon, though, I have nothing to worry myself over, do I?”

All at once, the ice in her eyes melted for Sansa, and the Stark allowed herself a smirk. “No. Not as long as I or Jon sit in this castle.” Daenerys beamed, and squeezed Sansa’s hands.

“You know, I never knew the North was so big!”

They wandered together in chatter, and Missandei took a sip of the wine she held. The only wine she had ever tasted was on two occasions, one for the pleasure of a master when she was 16, and another when she was telling jokes with Tyrion. This wine was significantly more potent, and it had a strange effect on her. She set the cup down, and looked around.

There was no doubt she was out of her element. She wasn’t used to the weather, wasn’t used to the clothing they had to pile on, and certainly… she wasn’t used to the people. Pale skin, wild hair, wild spirits. This area of the globe was certainly interesting, and Missandei was excited she had the opportunity to make it here with her queen.

Queen… who was that lady they proclaimed Queen in the North? She thought she had heard Jon Snow talking about her on the ship, a beautiful name that started with an S… Sansa Stark. Missandei scanned the room looking for her, and wished she had spent more time examining her eyes when they had been introduced. She was interesting, and Missandei couldn’t shake the feeling she got when she thought of the girl’s hair, red like an Astapori sunset over the water of those blue eyes.

It didn’t make much sense to her where these feelings were coming from, but they were nice, so she thought of those eyes some more. 

Sansa eventually let Dany rejoin Jon, and went to speak with Arya for a moment, who had been milling around the food for an hour, snacking periodically.

“You keep that up, you’ll be just as mother was with her sweets,” Sansa chided her playfully.

“I train all the time. I can eat all the black pudding I want.”

“Can you?”

Arya looked up, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What, says you with your lemon cakes?”

Sansa frowned. “I haven’t had a lemon cake in months. I should change that.” Arya giggled, and handed her a pastry. “Mmm… Petyr wasn’t very smart in the end, but at least he had the mind before to have some lemons brought with him up here.”

“Petyr?” Arya questioned.

“Lord Baelish,” Sansa answered quietly, looking down. Arya popped a cherry in her mouth.

“What do you think of that blonde woman?” the younger sibling whispered.

“The Queen?”

“Whoever she is.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister’s blatant disrespect, and sighed. “I think she’s fine. She obviously doesn’t fit in here in the north—"

“Sticks out like a sore thumb,” Arya nodded.

“—But it’s not like she’ll be staying.” Arya suddenly thought of something.

“Hey… if she’s going back to the capital, she’ll be taking Jon, yeah?”

“I suppose,” Sansa replied.

“Then… here, who's going to...?” They both had the same idea, but now was not the time Sansa wished to discuss or think about those circumstances.

“I’m going to get some more wine, and head off to bed.”

“Bed?” Arya snorted. “Okay, grandmother.” Sansa looked around, and stuck out her tongue at her sister when she was sure nobody was watching. Truth was, it had been an incredibly long day. Early morning, she had dealt with about 130 people with problems that were so pressing they couldn’t wait until after the celebration welcoming Jon home. Then, she had bathed and prepared the last of the gown she had been making, and oversaw 14 more lords and farmers with their runaway dogs, frozen ravens, and barley rations. Jon could have fun with the last 67 now that he was back.

Opting to take one of the pitchers of arbor gold, she lifted it from the table with her graceful gloved hands, and sauntered off down the dark corridors of Winterfell. Making it up the staircase, she wondered how long everyone would be about in the dining hall. It didn’t matter. A yawn escaped her lips.

Missandei, sufficiently full and sufficiently regaled with the stories of 4 Northmen and their brave lifetime conquests, decided to head to bed. Jon asked Brienne to escort her to the third tower, which was on the far side of the castle, and the blonde had shown the shorter young woman to the door. The walk through the stronghold was cold, and she could hear the winds gusting through the chimneys and down the halls… the stone of the walls were old, and weathered-- nothing like anything you would find in Mereen. Missandei wondered if the castle was haunted.

“Do you enjoy the company of Daenerys?” Brienne asked, conversationally.

“Very much, ma’am,” Missandei said, “She saved my life.”

“Mm. It is easy to love someone who has saved you, isn’t it?” she gave an absent smile, and beckoned to the end of the hall. “Just up one more flight of stairs, and it will be on your left.”

“Thank you,” Missandei said softly, and parted from the tall lady. Walking along the hall, she followed the directions up one flight, and found two rooms. Was it left looking at the stairs, or left coming from the stairs? She rubbed her arms at the chill that floated down the dimly lit hallway, and pushed open the first door…

“Who are you?!”

Missandei backed up, covering her mouth. “Oh… forgive me, my lady, I—thought this was my room!” Sansa relaxed just a little, uncovering her under-robes slightly.

“Well it’s not.”

“You’re right. I’ll be going, my lady-- eh… your grace. Forgive me.”

“ _My lady_ is just fine,” Sansa said, “I’m not a queen.” Her eyes softened. “And there’s nothing to forgive.” She set her glass down, and observed the woman in her doorway. She couldn’t be older than Sansa herself, and she looked scared; just as Sansa had always been. “Would you like to come in?”

Missandei felt a slight blush heat up her cheeks, but despite the humiliating situation, she did want to. So she nodded, closing the door behind her.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the advisor said, and Sansa put a hand up.

“It’s really okay. The only person I ever really get mad at for barging into my room is Arya.” At Missandei’s confused look, Sansa elaborated. “My little sister.”

“Ah,” Missandei smiled, looking down. Sansa poured more wine into her cup, and handed it over to Missandei.

“Have some.”

“Is that a command?” Missandei asked, and Sansa looked at her funny.

“No.”

A smile tugged at Missandei’s lips, and she took a sip. The warmth spread throughout her, and she felt tingly. Sansa looked at Missandei, and took in a breath. She was beautiful—one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen—her skin was smooth, her hair was luscious, and her eyes, deep and brown, held something Sansa wanted to unlock.

“You’re Missandei,” Sansa started the conversation. Her walls, as usual, were up, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a conversation with her.

“Yes,” Missandei nodded.

“And… where are you from Lady Missandei?”

“Oh, I’m not a lady. And I’m from a small island in Essos called Naath.”

“Naath,” Sansa repeated, “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Not many have, even in Essos,” the other woman replied. She looked around. “You were born here?”

“I was. This very room was where I lived when I was young. Before I begged to go to the capital, and all of… that, happened.” Missandei watched the redhead look around her room. "I was just like you, wide eyed and innocent. Until the world snatched me up and didn't let go until I fought my way out." 

"I… do know how you feel. Meaning all respect," Missandei looked down, "I may seem wide eyed, but I am far from innocent. I... was a captive slave for most of my lifetime, before coming into the service of Queen Daenerys." 

"Oh," Sansa whispered, "Forgive me, I shouldn't have--"

"We all make judgements, my lady," Missandei smiled, "Yours was not an unkind one." 

Sansa smiled back, and took another sip of her arbor gold. There was something about Missandei that allowed Sansa in-- a quiet intelligence, a ferocity only revealed at the right time. She sat forward. “Missandei… have you ever been in love?”

The question was random, but not unwelcome—an innocent inquiry, that one might ask when together with friends. Sansa and Missandei weren’t exactly friends, but Missandei felt something of a connection to the Northern lady. She looked down into her lap.

“Yes.” She thought of Grey Worm. “He’s… dead. It was in Mereen, so soon before we left to come here. He held my hand before he left the pyramid we were taking shelter in… the last thing he ever said to me was “thank you”. To this day, I can’t decide what he was thanking me for… my teachings or my love.”

Sansa was sucking on her bottom lip; she could feel the pain Missandei did.

“I’m sorry.”

Missandei looked up. “Thank you.” They shared a gaze, then she thought of something. “Have you?”

“Have I… ever been in love?” Sansa asked.

“Yes.” Missandei found herself very curious of that fact, indeed.

Sansa thought for a moment. She had never talked about it, not to Jon, not to Brienne, not to anyone. She didn’t want to let those walls down, not completely, but Missandei’s eyes were so kind, and trusting. Sansa took a chance.

“I have. I thought I was in love with a man who was a mentor to me since I was very young. I started getting these feelings for him, but…” she shook her head, “It wasn’t him I was in love with. It was different. I was just a confused little girl, I looked up to him, saw him as a savior, someone who would take care of me if I let him in.” She ran her fingers along a thread in her dress, thinking of the touches Petyr would give her body, the touches she pretended to enjoy when he would claim he loved her. Even as he assured her she would get everything her heart desired with him as he took what he wanted, she thought he would protect her. “He didn’t.”

Then, she thought of the touches Margaery used to give her, and the warmth returned. “She was my friend. My first real friend in the capital when all I knew was cruelty and abuse. Everyone used me for something, for my family, for my name, my body, everything… but she didn’t. She taught me so much about myself.” She felt the older Tyrell’s soft hand on her cheek, running through her hair, then felt her eyes water. “She’s dead too.”

Missandei handed her the wine. “Have some.” Sansa was appreciative of the mirrored gesture, and Missandei mulled something over in her mind. Did she have enough courage to ask? Yes. Decidedly, she did. “If I may ask… what is it like?”

“What?” Sansa asked.

“With, ehm… with a lady,” Missandei said, blushing. Sansa’s lips parted, and her breathing got a little heavier. After a second of silence, Missandei got up. “My goodness, I’m sorry, I should—"

“No.” Sansa sounded like a queen—calm, commanding. “It’s nice. I… didn’t know much about how to do anything, Margaery taught me how. But… _it_ felt very nice.” 

“I have only ever experienced such intimacy with a man.” Missandei said quietly. _Will you tell me more?_ Sansa realized what she was saying.

“She… kissed me. It felt different than my first kiss, a kiss I received from Lord Baelish, my mentor and uncle by law. This one felt like she was pulling my emotion from me… like she wanted me to feel something too, and I did.”

Missandei sighed softly. That sounded like a dream.

“She would trail her hand down my shoulder, and trace the lines in my palm as I spread out for her. Her hands would slide up my legs, parting them, and her lips would place kisses on my skin… there’s no feeling quite like it.”

Missandei shifted in her seat, eyes unwavering and attention at full. Sansa’s blue eyes stared ahead, thought hard.

“She would use her lips first, and then she would use her fingers. One hand would cup my breasts, and the other would touch me below.” Missandei let out an involuntary breath, and Sansa looked at her, seeing how wanton she looked. Sansa’s deeper instincts, her wolf instincts, took over.

“Would you like to try?”

Missandei exhaled. “Very much so.”

The redhead got up, and slid herself into the brunette’s lap, cupping her face as her thighs slotted on either side of the Naath native’s lap. She looked utterly enamored, and Sansa’s desire for affection flourished under the gaze. Sansa was spellbound by Missandei’s eyes, and wanted nothing more than to taste her lips… she dragged her fingertips ever so gently across Missandei’s cheekbones, holding her as she finally brought their lips together.

Missandei gasped, and Sansa let out a moan, grinding down into the foreigner’s lap. She wanted more, but it had apparently been a long time since Missandei had been with someone, so she didn’t want to try anything too fast.

“You do not have to worry about the pace, my lady,” Missandei said, chest heaving, “Not everything about me is cool and collected.” She suddenly slid her hands up Sansa’s back, and gave a mysterious smirk. The Northern girl groaned again, longing for her breasts to be touched. From here, it was a mild battle for dominance until they reached Sansa’s bed, and the wolf came out on top, slipping a knee between Missandei’s legs. Missandei was grateful, moving her hips down to grind against it as her sex clenched in anticipation. She was surprised at just how wet she was, but when she looked back up into the blue eyes of the predatory Stark queen, she was immediately reminded why.

“Any special talents?” Sansa asked breathlessly, unlacing her own dress. Missandei bit her lip.

“I can speak 19 different languages, my lady.” She leaned into Sansa’s ear. “Jaelan ao naejot gūrogon nyke ēva ñuha nyke hīghagon.”

Sansa let out a shaky breath. “What did you say?”

“I want you to take me until my body screams,” Missandei said, innocent eyelashes fluttering, and Sansa kissed her again, taking her hands and pinning them above her head as they made out like that for a few minutes. Soon, Missandei was whining through the kiss, so Sansa took her robes off… she was gorgeous. Her breasts were smaller than Sansa’s own rounder ones, just small and peaked enough to cup perfectly, and the Northern girl tentatively moved downward to close her lips around a nipple.

“Ohh,” Missandei breathed, arching, and Sansa ran a hand down her stomach, down to slip her fingers inside Missandei’s heat. “Mmm,” she moaned.

“It’s alright to be loud,” Sansa told her, curving her fingers at a perfect angle, “Nobody will hear us.” Missandei allowed herself to make noise, clutching at the furs on the bed as Sansa continued to drive her fingers deeper and curve them as she perfectly dragged herself along Missandei’s thigh, bumping her hand into her clit with every thrust in.

“Open your eyes,” Missandei moaned, “I want… I want to see you.” Sansa opened her tightly screwed eyes, and took in the sight below. Missandei’s lips were swollen, and Sansa had never seen someone look so lustful.

"You're so beautiful." Sansa was gazing at her, as if taken aback by her. She curled her fingers, stroking just right, and Missandei grabbed Sansa’s back, pulling her down against her as she came, letting out a squeal.

Sansa waited a few minutes before stroking a curl from Missandei’s eyes, and Missandei blinked sultrily. “Would you flip over, my lady?”

Sansa didn’t question her motives, and did so. Missandei parted her legs, and, as she had remembered Sansa saying, descended between them. Sansa panted her name when she realized what she was doing, and her head relaxed back into the pillow in bliss as the other young woman’s tongue lapped at her clit.

“That’s…” Sansa bit her lip. “Mmmpph… oh, that’s so nice… ah, Missandei…”

The shorter girl kissed Sansa’s clit, and moved down to delve inside her, kitten licking back up and down until Sansa was on the edge, body convulsing and ready to tip.

“Magnificent.” She thought of something, and decided to try it as a last ditch attempt. “Now come for me, like a good little girl.”

“Ahh!” Sansa cried, nails digging into the headboard as Missandei licked methodically through her orgasm. Her toes curled, and her body exploded in a ray of shocked nerves, waves of pleasure consuming her until she finally felt herself sag.

“How was it?” Missandei asked nervously, laughing slightly, “I’m not very good, I’m afraid.”

Sansa shook her head. “You knew just what to do. I’ve… never felt that good before.”

Missandei blushed. “Really?”

“I swear it to the old gods and the new,” Sansa chuckled.

“Thank you, my lady.”

Amused at the fact that she was about to channel her former mentor, Sansa kissed her cheek. “Please. You should call me Sansa.” They lay together like that, in each other’s arms, thinking about who they left behind and what they’d found in this little room by the firelight.

* * *

 Sansa watched the early sun rise from one end of the breakfast table in the dining hall. They had yet to clean up after last night’s celebration, so they ate around the mess and debris of a half-eaten boar and scattered berry jam. Mother would never stand for such a mess. Father would probably laugh.

Missandei was sitting on the left of the table, with the queen. Sansa smiled to herself, and Jon knocked her on the shoulder, roughly.

“What’s goin’ on with you?”

Sansa balked. “I was smiling, in case you couldn’t _tell_.”

“Aye, but there has to be a reason.”

“Yeah, why are you so happy?” Arya cut in.

“Why does it matter?” Sansa snapped at them. She hated these sudden attacks.

“Wait, do I want to know?” Jon asked apprehensively, sitting back in her chair and picking his teeth with a bone.

“She was probably thinking about some pretty boy she likes,” Arya made a face. Sansa smirked, thinking of Missandei’s dress, sliding down her hips.

“Something like that.”

Over at the other side, the Unsullied devoured food as Dany and Missandei picked at their bread. They had yet to get used to Westerosi food.

"Well, it looks like we'll be here for a while," Daenerys remarked, “At least until Jon figures things out.”

"Yes, your grace. I hope so your grace." Missandei tried to hide her blush, pulling her furs higher on her shoulder, but it was hard to hide anything from the dragon queen.

"You do, do you?" the blonde grinned, "Why, met a _strapping_ Northern man?" Her eyebrows raised a little. "Lady..?"

"Um..." Missandei averted her eyes. "I do not think it would be appropriate to speak of--"

"Who was it?!" Dany asked her excitedly, and Missandei swallowed, glancing sheepishly over to the head of the table. Dany stared.

"My sister in law?"

"Your grace, it was only once."

"You slept with the lady of Winterfell!”

“Please,” Missandei looked down, embarrassed, and Daenerys decided to go easy on her friend.

“Mmm. She is a beauty, isn't she?"

Missandei blushed again. "More beautiful than the setting sun over the narrow sea," she murmured softly, and Dany couldn't help but smile at her friend's infatuation.

"You like her?"

Missandei looked down to her lap with a shy smile. "A great deal, your grace."

Danaerys considered this. She knew how loyal Missandei was, and that while she didn't need to give permission, it would put her at ease. She lifted her chin in a regal manner. "Then, I condone it. Fully."

"You do?" Missandei looked up.

"Most certainly," Dany nodded seriously, "What a perfect match." She lifted her glass, pointing at Sansa.

Sansa looked over, and the blonde pretended to be doing something else as the two shared a smile. Maybe, for the first time in both their lives, things would turn out okay.


End file.
